


I've Found Myself a Cheerleader

by larrymylove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Football | Soccer, Harry is his biggest fan, Louis is a professional football player, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 17:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4633578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrymylove/pseuds/larrymylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Louis Tomlinson is a star football player. Harry Styles is his biggest fan. A miscommunication with a reporter leads to a fake relationship, lots of flirting, tons of banter, and maybe...just maybe...something more!</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Found Myself a Cheerleader

**Author's Note:**

> I was stuck in traffic today when the song Cheerleader by OMI (I can't stand that song, but I have a blast singing along to it regardless) came on and this idea popped into my head. It was originally going to be just a one-shot. But it sort of got out of hand. I may had one or two more chapters to this depending. I've been so busy lately and haven't had much time to write lately. I get a bit overwhelmed with multi chapter fics, so I've been staying more with one-shots. But this one will be just 2-3 chapters long. Also, please bear in mind that I am not British and I know nothing about football/soccer but I'm trying! Please be kind!!

“Niall, come on!” Harry shouted, hopping up and down from foot to foot by the front door, “Let’s get going! We’re going to be late! And if we miss warm-ups, I swear to Christ I will never bake you those double-fudge chocolate-chunk cookies you love so much, you Irish bastard!”

Niall ran down the flight of stairs, buttoning up his short-sleeve button-down as he took the stairs two at a time, “Jesus Christ, H. We’re fine on time. You’re not going to be late to see your precious Louis. Okay...what is that,” Niall pointed to the two poster-boards in Harry’s hands, “Oh no. Oh hell no. I am not…”

“C’mon, Ni!” Harry pled, “I couldn’t fit all the saying on my sign. So...you’re going to be the first part, and I’ll be the second part. And standing next to each other, it’ll flow smoothly and…”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“At least show me what this thing says,” Niall folded his arms over his chest, “And then I’ll decide if I want to throw you out on the side of the road or not.”

Harry flipped the poster-boards around, handing Niall his sign. “Your’s says ‘Are your feet tired?’ and mine says, ‘Because you’ve been running through my mind all day!’ And see, mine has the number twenty-eight, see? His kit number!”

“I know his number you absolute fool. Kind hard not to when my dumbass of a flatmate has posters of Louis fucking Tomlinson plastered all over the walls and drags me to all of his games and moans number twenty-eight in his sleep…”

“I do _not_ moan his kit number in my sleep!” Harry gasped, indignant, “Now let’s get going, please.”

“Fine, fine,” Niall snatched his keys off the hook by the door, “Only because I’d be broken-hearted without those double-fudge chocolate-chunk cookies in my life.”

\--

Some people spent their money on a good car or on fancy electronics or traveling. Harry Styles spent his money on football tickets. It wasn’t exactly his fault though. He didn’t even _like_ football. But he had been watching Sky Sports with Niall one evening back in uni and they had done a special one-hour biographic event about Louis William Tomlinson - the youngest signed footie player. He had been discovered while still in school. After graduating, he was signed on with Man U. By the age of nineteen, he made team captain. And in the one-hour span of the television special, Harry fell in love.

Niall had glanced over to see Harry mesmerized and hadn’t changed the channel. Instead, he kept glancing back between Harry and the TV. The special featured some background info on Louis and interviews with his family, friends, and finally Louis himself. And Harry had fallen hard and fast. There was something about the boy with bright blue eyes and feathery soft shaggy hair and a scruffy beard. He was so, so small too! He was dwarfed by many of the other Man U players. But he was a spitfire on the football pitch. After the special had ended, Harry had googled anything and everything to do with Louis William Tomlinson.

He learned that he was born on December Twenty-Fourth (Christmas Eve, and the world’s best Christmas gift since Jesus in Harry’s personal opinion). He was now twenty-two years old. When he wasn’t playing football, Louis was very active in charity work - particularly working with very ill and dying children. He had several tattoos. He came from a big family - the oldest of seven. He was very close to his mum. He was one of the few openly gay footie players. His favorite color was red. His favorite food was pizza. And he had absolutely no clue that there was a boy who was head-over-heels in love with him.

It was then that Harry began saving his money and dragging Niall along to every game Louis ever played - including away games. And he didn’t skimp on tickets either. Every bit of extra cash, change, etc. he had went into a large till and at each season, he’d purchase season tickets for the very front row. And if some of the sports blogs had begun calling him and Niall “Man U’s Most Devoted Fans” well, so be it.

When they arrived at the stadium, Harry and Niall got to their seats. The players had just begun their stretches. Music blasted over the loudspeakers to pump up the players. Harry’s leg bounced up and down as he watched Louis on the pitch. Louis was so small but so agile and so...foldable. He could easily kick his leg up so high his foot went above his head. And his thighs...his thighs were made by the gods. Hand-sculpted, if you would.

“There’s your boy,” Niall ribbed, nudging Harry a little too roughly with his elbow, “So when’s the wedding, lover boy?”

“Shut up,” Harry pouted. He knew Louis knew of their existence. It was a bit difficult. Sports blogs had begun to even call them Man U’s unofficial mascots. They were always featured on the big screen at least a few times throughout the games. But Louis was always behind security and Harry had some sense enough not to try to mob the poor lad. Harry already felt ridiculous about his attraction and devotion to someone he’d never met before. But he couldn’t explain it. Even though he had never met Louis, he loved Louis. Genuinely loved hm. It wasn’t a crush. It was absolute love.

It went beyond just wanting to snog him - though Harry wouldn’t pass up the opportunity should it arise. He genuinely cared for Louis. He often found himself wondering if Louis was getting enough sleep, hoping that he wasn’t just living off cereal and cigarettes, wondering if he was genuinely happy and healthy. He felt a connection to this boy. Harry’s life was so much better with Louis’ small presence in it. And it was strange and unexplainable, but Harry knew he was in love. Absolutely, totally, and genuinely in love with Louis William Tomlinson.

And they hadn’t even met.

\--

“Hey lookit there,” Liam ran up next to Louis, nudging him with his elbow, “Your biggest fans!”

Louis pulled his leg behind him, holding his foot to the middle of his back. He glanced up in the stands to where Liam was pointing. Louis couldn’t help the small smile that played on his lips. It would freak him out if it were anyone else, really. If it were some old creepy man Louis would probably have put a stop to this “stalking” and have security alerted. But the boy with the curls and the little blonde one were endearing. They had started coming to Louis’ games a few years ago, and had come to every game ever since. And Louis couldn’t help but find himself looking for them before games. It was just nice to see them. The curly one always had his brows knitted in concentration as he watched the game, trying to take it all in. The blonde always chugged down pints and got loud and dancy. And _their signs!_ The curly one always brought the funniest signs! Louis couldn’t help but be endeared.

“Fuckin’ stalkers,” Louis rolled his eyes, but he was laughing as he said it.

“They kind are, aren’t they?” Liam grinned, twisting his waist from side to side.

“They mean well,” Louis defended, wondering why he bothered even defending them. Because technically Liam was right. They were technically stalkers. Louis’ endearing, goofy stalkers whom he may or may not have developed a large soft-spot for.

He glanced back up at the stands once again. The curly one caught his gaze and kept smacking the blonde one until the blonde held up his matching sign begrudgingly. Louis squinted to read them. Curly smacked Blondie one more time and Blondie adjusted his sign so it was actually facing the proper way now.

“Are your feet tired? Because you’ve been running through my mind all day,” Louis mouthed the words. God it was cheesy and terrible just like all the others. But Louis couldn’t help but clamp his hand over his mouth and giggle, his shoulders raising up to his ears as he folded in on himself, “Oh my God,” he managed between little breathy giggles, “Li, they’re ridiculous!”

“Are you ever going to meet them?” Liam asked.

“What?” Louis frowned, as if this was a total foreign concept to him.

“Meet...them,” Liam repeated, slower, “Ya know, actually say hi, shake their hands, get to know them.”

“I uh...I never um...I didn’t consider that a possibility.”

“Well it is one,” Liam urged, plopping down on the pitch to sprawl out and touch his toes, “You should meet them. It’d probably make their entire lives. Ten pounds says Blondie passes out.”

“Nah,” Louis laughed, “It’d be Curly. I don’t think Blondie could give two shits about meeting me. But Curly...he’s the one that’s the devoted one. Drags Blondie along with him.”

“So then why don’t you make an effort to meet them?" Liam asked, “Ask security to tell them to meet you out here by the entrance. Shake their hands. Take a few selfies. They aren’t like, dangerous. You know they aren’t. We’ve seen dangerous. Remember that fan that tried to rip my ear off? And that time on the road where a fan snuck into my room and stole my pants?”

“Ah yes,” Louis grinned, “Good times.”

“These two goofs just keep to themselves. They never try to mob us. They don’t even try to meet us. I am pretty sure if we ran into them out and about, they’d leave us be then too. They just like to be supportive.”

Louis nodded, looking back into the stands, “Curly’s cute.”

“What?” Liam asked, “How long have you been harboring that thought!”

“Awhile now,” Louis shrugged casually. It wasn’t like it was a big deal or anything. He had just noticed. Recently, the baby fat in Curly’s cheeks had vanished. Now he was quite chiseled and his curls were past his shoulders now. He looked damn good if Louis did say so himself. Didn’t mean anything or anything. Louis was just taking notice. An attractive lad noticing another attractive lad.

“Oh my God!” Liam laughed, delighted.

“It’s not a deal or anything,” Louis shrugged again, “Just one fit lad noticing another fit lad.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed, “What have we said about calling yourself fit?”

“Hush you,” Louis swatted at him.

“If you’re not going to ask them to meet, then I will. Your choice, bub.”

\--

Halfway during the game, while Niall was shoveling nachos by the handful into his mouth, a security guard approached their seats.

“Hi,” the man said, “It was asked of me to tell you two that Louis Tomlinson and Liam Payne would like to meet with you after the game.”

“What?” Harry’s eyes practically bulged from their sockets. Okay. This wasn’t happening. Surely this was some sort of dream, “Niall, pinch me.”

“Okay.”

“OW! Not _that_ hard!”

Niall shrugged.

“Mr. Tomlinson and Mr. Payne want me to accompany you to the pitch after the game. They’ll meet you by the entrance after the game. I’ll see you then.”

“Th-thank you,” Harry said on a breath.

Man U won the game. Of course they did. Harry knew they would. And after, the security guard approached again, taking Harry and Niall out to the pitch. Standing on the pitch felt surreal. It felt like being put on another dimension. Everything was green and spacious and totally distorted in Harry’s mind compared to being up in the stands. He wasn’t used to this feeling. It still felt like he was invading. Like he shouldn’t be there. But he was. He was really there. Because Louis had asked him to be.

“This is unreal, mate,” Niall rubbed his hands over his face, “Like, really. What the fuck.”

“They’ve never asked to meet us before,” Harry’s cheeks flushed, “What if they want to tell us to keep away? What if we really creeped them out.”

“H, you’re the one that insists on coming to every game and sitting in the very front and holding up signs every time. If they think we’re creeps, I’m throwing you under the bus. Sorry.”

“You arse!” Harry slapped at Niall right as Liam and Louis appeared from the tunnel’s entrance. Louis’s cheeks were flushed from playing, and his fringe was a little stuck to his forehead with sweat. And honestly, Harry was breathless. Louis was so much more beautiful in person. And seeing him standing there before, it felt unreal. It was the first time Harry really felt as though Louis was real. He knew was, obviously. But seeing him face to face like this...Harry just prayed he didn’t puke.

“Hi! Hello!” Louis greeted, flicking the fringe from his eyes with a flick of a dainty wrist.

“Hi!” Harry squeaked. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.

“Hi there,” Liam waved, “I’m Liam. This is Louis. But we take it that you two know that already.”

“ ‘m Harry,” Harry managed to say without his voice going up a few octaves, “And this is Niall.”

“Good to meet you,” Liam shook their hands and Louis leaned forward and shook their hands as well.

“Never actually got to meet you two before,” Louis said, “Figured it was about time we see who our two biggest fans are.”

“I don’t know about that…” Harry flushed, running a boot over the grass. Normally he wasn’t this shy. But Louis was standing just a few feet away from him and was looking at him with those huge blue eyes and he was smiling. He was smiling at Harry. And Harry prayed his knees wouldn’t give out right then and there.

Just then, a reporter approached. She had a small tape recorder in her hand and Louis pulled a face just as she headed over.

“Lovely,” he sighed.

“Oh be nice,” Liam nudged, “Humor her for a few questions, will ya?”

Louis rolled his eyes and the reporter smiled brightly, “Hi there,” she said, “I’m Cynthia Brooks from Sports Scene. We’re an online blog and I have just a few questions for you lads if you don’t mind. I’ll be quick about it. First of all,” her smile grew tenfold as she glanced between Harry and Louis, “How long have you two been dating?”

“Um...what?” Louis asked. Harry would have replied too, except he was currently choking on his own saliva and trying not to turn blue and pass out. Once his coughing finally calmed, thanks to Niall beating his back, Harry looked to Cynthia with a confused look.

“You two,” she said again, motioning between them, “Our readers want to know. You,” she turned to Harry, “Are one of the most devoted partners! I have does this for years and I’ve never come across a WAG as devoted as you.”

“WAG?” Harry managed.

“Wives and girlfriends,” Liam explained.

“We’re not uh…” Louis nervously flicked and tugged at his fringe, “We um…”

“Dating?” Harry finally figured out words, “You think Louis and I are...dating?” Okay. _Barely_ figured out words.

“Well,” Louis cleared his throat. He pushed past Liam and marched over to Harry, flinging his arm around Harry’s waist, “Harry and I have been close for awhile now. Though we only just became official recently. That’s all we’re going to say on the matter though, love. We’re a private people, Haz and I are,” Louis gave Harry’s waist a small squeeze and Harry’s mind was a flurry. What the hell was even happening right now? He looked to Niall who just shrugged.

“Alright, I’ll respect that,” Cynthia nodded, “Great game today, by the way.”

She asked a few more questions to Louis and Liam about their game and any special routines to get into shape. She asked about juice cleanses and Louis gagged.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Can’t get this one to drink a juice cleanse if I paid him,” Harry’s brain finally kicked in, realizing Louis wanted him to play along with his facade. Harry wrapped his arm around Louis and gave him a small squeeze.

Cynthia thanked them for their time and headed off.

“So…” Harry unwrapped himself from Louis, “...care to tell me how we went from just meeting to being official?”

Louis winced, “I’m sorry about that,” he said truthfully, “it’s just...it would look better for you. If I told her you were just a fan, it would spin into you being a crazed fan. A fanatic. A…”

“...stalker,” Harry whispered.

Louis reached out and gently brushed a curl from Harry’s face, a soft smile on his lips, “I know you aren’t, love. You and your friend Niall are just very devoted fans. I don’t see you as a stalker at all, Haz. I don’t. But a reporter and people online...they might. I can’t control them from not thinking that. Unless I did this. By saying you’re my boyfriend, it makes it okay - socially acceptable if you will - for you to be as devoted as you are.”

“I’m sorry I’m so weird,” Harry buried his face in his hands.

“Hey, none of that,” Louis pulled Harry’s hands down, “Love, stop that. We’ve seen stalkers. We’ve dealt with them. They give us the creeps and make us feel unsafe. You make us happy. We like you being here. We look for you two before every game. We _enjoy_ you being here. It’s just people online can be hateful and mean and...shit! I’m sorry! Fuck! Are you even…”

“Oh yes,” Harry nodded, “Very much so.”

“Whew,” Louis let out a sigh, “Okay. Well, if you want to keep this up, all you have to do is keep doing what you’re doing, love. Come to games. Hold your signs. Maybe after a few weeks I can say casually that we’ve broken up but we’re still close and you’ll still be at every game. I’m sorry I didn’t think this through more. I just...I needed to protect you from the label of crazed fan. I’m sorry if I put you in a bad spot.”

“N-not at all,” Harry flushed again, “I appreciate it actually.”

“I just don’t want you to have a bad image. I don’t want people to scare you out of coming again. We like you being here. Both of you,” Louis turned to Niall, “Made my day when you fell over that one time during The Wave, mate.”

“Yikes,” Niall winced, “You saw that.”

Louis winked, “I see everything.”

They talked a bit more before hugging and saying their goodbyes. Liam ushered Louis back to the locker room. Louis didn’t know why, but he felt a little sad at having to leave. He had asked for Harry’s number though, keeping in mind throughout everything that Harry had not once asked for a photo or autograph. Louis was glad he at least had the lad’s number, but still. He hated having to say goodbye.

“What the fuck was that?” Liam asked, tugging his kit off and tossing it into the laundry hamper.

“I just didn’t want him to get a negative online image.”

“What if he wasn’t even gay, Lou? What if he wasn’t even out yet?”

“She didn’t have a camera,” Louis already felt bad. Liam wasn’t helping, “And I don’t think she knew his name. It wasn’t like she was a big news outlet or something. Everyone knows I’m gay. And Harry just has to keep showing up and doing what he’s doing. Look, Li. I already felt shitty about sort of backing him into a corner.”

“You were trying to look out for the lad,” Liam pulled a jumper over his head, “I respect that.”

“I don’t know why,” Louis flushed, tugging on his jeans, “I just…”

“You care about him!”

“Hush you!” Louis swatted Liam’s arse, “I don’t know him!”

“You’re gonna have to, bub. Considering the fact that he’s your boyfriend now,” Liam giggled, dragging out the word ‘boyfriend.’

\--

Louis sunk down on his couch and flicked on the TV. He mindlessly watched Chopped for a few moments before grabbing the cell phone off the coffee table and typing out a quick text. He must have read over it almost two hundred times before pressing SEND.

_**BOYFRIEND! Since we’re supposedly ‘dating’ now I figured we should at least go on one date. Just to play that up a bit, don’t you think? I have a massive kitchen I only use to heat up pot noodles. But we should do dinner sometime.** _

A few agonizing minutes later, his phone pinged.

_Is this your sneaky way of asking me to come over and cook for you, Tomlinson?_

_**No! I’m just saying it’d be nice to get a meal out somewhere. Sick of pot noodle.** _

_Because I would. Just saying. I love cooking._

_**I’ll take you up on that one of these days, Hazza. But what do you say tomorrow night I pick you up and take you to my favorite restaurant. Wine you and dine you proper.** _

_I can’t turn down a nice meal. Alright. What time?_

_**Seven work for you?** _

_Sure! I’ll text you my address tomorrow. So...we’re officially playing into this, right?_

_**It’ll be fun. I mean...unless you don’t want to.** _

_I don’t mind. Did you know people ship us online? They call us Larry Stylinson. I don’t know to think that’s cool or weird._

_**Both is good. I’m sorry for backing you into a corner like this, Hazza. Just say the word and I’ll stop this. I just...I don’t really think before doing stuff. I’m in the public eye a lot, H. People will know you and they’ll know you’re name and I just...I don’t want to force you into this.** _

_People already know me and my name thanks to me sort of being a creep. I really do not mind at all, Lou. I think I might be fun. Besides, how many people get to say they are dating one of the most fit footie players out there!_

_**Ah, flattery will get you most places, love. Once again, you sure about this?** _

_I’m sure! 100% sure!_

_**Okay. And you aren’t a creep, Harry. Please don’t think that about yourself. A girl once approached me dressed as a slice of pizza since I said once my favorite food was pizza. Liam had all his pants stolen by a fan once. One time a girl gave me a photo album of our children! She did one of those face mashup thingies and printed out pics of what her’s and my kids would look like. You aren’t a creep. You’re supportive. And that’s awesome, H. Don’t ever change please!** _

_Thank you :)_

_**You’re like a good luck charm, love. I love you being there. I’d miss you if you weren’t.** _

_You’re making me blush._

_**Seen you blush today. You’re cute when you blush.** _

Louis hissed a sharp breath. What was he even doing? Flirting. He knew he was flirting. He knew he shouldn't be, but he was. And it was fun! He couldn’t help it. Flirting with Harry just came naturally. And it was fun. And Louis found himself tucked up on the couch smiling at his phone, all episodes of a Chopped marathon totally forgot by this point.

_Stop it!_

_**C’mon. What’s the fun of having a fake boyfriend if I can’t fluster him a bit.** _

\--

“Jesus Christ,” Harry hissed, staring down at the phone in his hands.

_Don’t tease me like that, Lou! Keep that up, and you’re gonna make me wish it wasn’t just fake._

Harry frowned at the text. It was already sent. He couldn’t take it back now. Louis was going to see it. Harry flung his head back against his pillow. Why had he even texted that? It was too much too fast! Actually, this whole entire day had been too much too fast. What were they even getting into?

_**We’re lucky, love. See this as a trial. We go on our date tomorrow night and let’s see how things go in these next few days. I like you a lot already. Don’t think this is just a fake relationship, Haz. It can be more. It can be real. Let’s just see if I don’t chase you off tomorrow night. I’m a bit of a handful.** _

Harry read over Louis’ text about two hundred times. Louis would be open to the idea of this being real? Harry felt dizzy and overwhelmed and was glad to be lying down in his bed as opposed to trying to stand. He was certain his legs would give out on him if he was standing upright.

A cheeky smile crossed his face as he typed back his response:

_Good thing I have big hands then ;)_

**Author's Note:**

> Title from: Cheerleader by OMI
> 
> Please go read my recent one-shot "Home Tastes Like Your Mouth" I'd love some feedback on that one please :)
> 
> Also, comments, kudos, bookmarks make my day :) :) :)


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